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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379258">And I'm pretending you ain't been on my mind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/plz_carry_me/pseuds/plz_carry_me'>plz_carry_me</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>League of Legends RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>90s AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Break Up, Bullying, Cheerleader!Rekkles, Exchange students, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jock!Broxah, Kissing, M/M, Martin needs a hug, Meet the Family, Partying, Rivals to lovers?? i guess, Strangers to Lovers, Underage Drinking, cheerleading, g2 squad being class clowns, inaccurate descriptions of football, mads being soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:47:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/plz_carry_me/pseuds/plz_carry_me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“[...] but you’re, like, all mysterious and you like your personal space and stuff. And you got the whole,” he paused and gestured to his face, “pretty face-blue-eyes-blond-hair-thing down.”<br/>Martin burst into unexpected laughter at that. “So I’m Swedish because I’m pretty?”<br/>“I guess,” Mads grinned and caught his eye again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When the star quarterback of the school's football team took notice in Martin, the cheerleader knew nothing good could come out of it. Why would someone like Brock-Pedersen even care for somebody as unpopular as him? And why did he have to be so ridiculously nice about it?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mads "Broxah" Brock-Pedersen/Martin "Rekkles" Larsson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And I'm pretending you ain't been on my mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi!<br/>i started writing this story in 2019 and there have been so many times i thought i would give up, but low and behold: here it is! i wanted to write a cute, fluffy high school au with the structure of every romance story ever, just for fun, but it really got out of hand. i love the concept of cheerleader/jock relationships, this is one of them! i don't know a lot about football or cheerleading, i got everything i know from other media i consumed. there's also a non binary person in there because i do love my representation (see if you can spot them!)</p><p>i have some quick notes;<br/>as this is rpf, i have to mention that irl, rekkles and broxah are not in a relationship. i wrote this for fun, but i still have respect for them and if they wish for this to be removed i will do so. i also wanna use this as an opportunity to remind everyone reading this that these are real people who deserve your respect!!<br/>even further, i mentioned their families, who i don't know at all. i'm 100% sure mads' family is lovely and this is only ever a plot device with no real background. rekksis is also in here, but i switched their ages to match my ideas better!</p><p>there are mentions of homophobia (i set it around the early 90s) and implied assault (mads gets kissed by a drunk girl without his consent). there's also light bullying. please note these warnings and take care.</p><p>lastly, both of them are 18 during the events of the story, but as the drinking age in the us is 21, it's underage drinking.</p><p>i want to thank kads, who has read through this mess in chunks for the last 1 1/2 years. i owe you all the motivation to finish this and all my uwus.</p><p>if you liked it, please consider leaving kudos and a comment. it would mean a lot to me to see that people are enjoying what i write<br/>with that - have fun! x</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martin quickly dried his hair with the red towel somebody had thrown at him when he walked off the field after rehearsal. The weather had been pleasant, but after the sun had set, the chill started to get to everyone. The short red uniforms the cheerleaders had to wear just weren’t made for the late-March temperatures. Martin folded up the towel, so the embroidered Red Gecko logo was on top and dropped it onto his duffel bag.</p><p>The rest of the cheerleading squad chattered and laughed around him as they grabbed their bags and walked over to the changing rooms. Nearly all of them were in his year, and he recognized most new faces from his classes. The squad was reserved for the prettiest and most athletic girls of their Highschool and - well - him. Some days he still couldn’t believe he’d made the team and it was also slightly unbelievable he didn’t quit when all of them had made clear that they didn’t want him on their squad.</p><p>“Hey Martin,” Kathy, their head cheerleader, said behind him. He turned around and realized a few girls had stayed behind and cornered him against the wall of the bleachers. “Wanna come party at Madison's house tonight?” Martin had to force himself not to pull a grimace.</p><p>“No thanks,” he says and pulls a jacket from his bag, “I learned that your definition of a fun party is quite different from mine.”</p><p>“Come on!” Kathy groaned. “It was fun,” - it wasn’t. After Martin had passed out on the floor, they dyed his hair green with some permanent colour which had resulted in shaving his head in tears the next day - “and also that was one time! We just want to have a good time among us girls, you know?” Martin huffed and zipped up his jacket. </p><p>“No thanks,” he repeats empathetically, but Kathy grabs his arm and leans in closely. “Martin, don’t be a bitch. We’re nice enough to invite you, so you better come, alright?”</p><p>Martin opened his mouth for an angry retort, but he was cut off by a cheery “Good evening, Ladies!” All the girls turned around and looked at Mads Brock-Pedersen with flushed faces and echoed “Hi Mads!”</p><p>Martin used the opportunity to rip his arm from Kathy's bruising grip and shoulder his bag. The quarterback smiled at the flustered cheerleaders. “Better get inside before you freeze,” he said and chuckled when they erupted into laughter and nearly ran off to the showers. Kathy stepped away from Martin and grabbed her own bag before asking “See you tonight, Maddie?” Mads nodded and Kathy walked off with a smug look on her face.</p><p>The football player now turned to him. “You okay there?” Martin pulled up an eyebrow and asked “Do you want me to thank you for saving me from the sharks or something like that? Not happening, I had it under control.”</p><p>Mads made a face and held his hands up in surrender. Martin huffed again and started to walk to the parking lot. He could hear Mads moving in the same direction behind him and twirled around. “So are you gonna follow me home now or what?” he spat.</p><p>“Chill,” Mads said, “I was just trying to be nice.”</p><p>“Well,” Martin responded, “Don’t.” He walked off at a steady pace and held his head up high until he knew he was out of sight. He let out a loud sigh.</p><p> </p><p>As the first big match of the season approached, Martin had to stay in school after his usual classes to rehearse most days of the week. He had been on the squad for long enough to usually avoid sore muscles and exhaustion during the day, but they all felt the amount of training and the pressure that was on now. Cheerleading at big sports events was the most fun they could have, of course, but it was also the most stressful thing Martin knew.</p><p>Martin wasn’t really into football himself. He knew the basic rules but beyond that, he was completely lost. Luckily, there was a better way for him to support their school’s team. Even if he didn’t like the not-so-smart-but-at-least-handsome players individually he knew that they were good, and he appreciated how hard they were working towards the win.</p><p>He waited for the next bus to arrive, so he didn’t have to walk all the way home, but it was late once again. It still wasn’t cold but since he refused to use the locker room and showers of the football players - for reasons that weren’t just inappropriate boners, mind you - he was still in his cheerleader uniform with on additional sweater he put on.</p><p>A silver Toyota drove off the parking lot and Martin watched it on its way down the road, surprised as it stopped in front of him. The window was rolled down and with a pang of annoyance, Martin recognized Mads as the driver on the inside.</p><p>“Need a ride?” the boy asked and gave him a grin. Martin considered agreeing for just a second before he quickly shook his head and said “No thanks!”</p><p>Mads face fell but he quickly recovered. “But you have to be cold?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Martin responded, a bit more annoyed and luckily the other one seemed to get the hint. “Alright,” Mads gave in and started to roll up the window, “Hope to see you tomorrow then!”</p><p>“Or hopefully not!” Martin shot back overly cheery with a wide smile he immediately dropped when the car drove off.</p><p>The story should’ve ended right there. Mads should’ve taken the hint and dropped his friendly act and Martin should’ve finally asked his mom to start picking him up after rehearsal again. Neither of those two things happened. Whenever football training and cheer rehearsal ended around the same time, Martin would wait at the bus stop, shivering but way too proud to actually take the ride Mads continued to offer him every single time. Mads would open with a friendly line, Martin would tell him off and Mads would drive off looking like a kicked puppy every other evening. Some days, Martin was even feeling some sympathy towards the other student. After all, he had been nothing but nice. But Martin would not make the mistake of trusting the popular students at their high school again. He had too much moral to go through with their schemes and pranks and they had turned on him in a heartbeat when they realized. It was easy to be mean to the gay cheerleader from Sweden. The football team had been no exception. Not all of them were assholes but Martin wasn’t sure anymore which side Mads had been on and it was not a conversation he was keen on having.</p><p>Now that Mads miraculously started to have interest in Martin’s every move, he was anything but suspicious. The footballer was friends with Kathy and the other girls, and he was way too popular to simply befriend Martin.</p><p>On Friday, rain had started to pour halfway during their rehearsal. The coach had cut it short, but all the cheerleaders were already soaked. Martin shivered and wrapped his arms a little bit tighter around himself. Not only had he nearly slipped and broken his neck three times, but everyone had been mad about his general performance today. To top it all off he forgot his jacket at home so now he was lightly dressed, wet to the bones and his hair was a complete mess. Just as his teeth began to chatter violently, a car stopped in front of him. Fuck. Mads rolled down the window as usual, but today there was no cheesy line, and he wasn’t having his usual cocky smile on his face. “C’mon,” he simply said.</p><p>Martin did not just admit defeat. When he was a child, he wished for a bike for Christmas. Admittedly, not a smart wish in the middle of the Swedish winter. But after he terrorized his parents for weeks in advance, they gave in and bought him a bike. He slipped on ice a week later and broke his arm, but he still won. When his family had moved to the United States and he had to leave behind everything he knew and lost nearly all his friends, he signed up to the cheerleader try-outs on his very first day at his new high school. And then three weeks later, when they refused to let him in the first time. And then again. And again, because close minded people suck. But in the end, he had made the squad. That’s what counts.</p><p>Fuck, when all the people he thought he could trust turned out to be backstabbing bitches- well, in the end he made it through. So, admitting defeat was just not his thing, thank you very much. But he was cold, the bus was late, and he felt so terrible that Mads could probably not make it worse.</p><p>He pulled open the door and flopped into the passenger seat. “So, where to?” Mads asked and Martin told him his address. He felt Mads eyes on him for another second before the other reached over to the backseat and grabbed his jacket. He dropped it into Martin’s lap with a pointed look. Martin sighed. After a bit of shuffling around, he had pulled the jacket over his bare shoulders. The inside of the car was warm and comfortable, it didn’t smell weird and the radio played some station at a low frequency. Not the perfect set-up for something weird to happen, but Martin couldn’t shake the bad feeling in the back of his head.</p><p>“So where are you from, originally? I’m from Denmark, that’s why I talk weird,” Mads chuckled. “Sweden,” Martin responded and met Mads’ eyes when he looked away from the road and at him for a few seconds. </p><p>“That fits,” he says. “Wait, why?” Martin asks. Mads softly shakes his head. “Dunno, just does.”</p><p>“No,” Martin said, “seriously, now I wanna know. Why am I the Swedish stereotype?”</p><p>Mads started to laugh, “Not really a stereotype, but you’re, like, all mysterious and you like your personal space and stuff. And you got the whole,” he paused and gestured to his face, “pretty face-blue-eyes-blond-hair-thing down.”</p><p>Martin burst into unexpected laughter at that. “So I’m Swedish because I’m pretty?”</p><p>“I guess,” Mads grinned and caught his eye again. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but his eyes flicked back onto the road and he turned up the radio a little. Martin didn’t recognize the song, but it was calm and soft. Martin leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. A few minutes passed in silence, but eventually Mads voice cut through it. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now, we’re nearly there.”</p><p>“I’m not!” Martin groaned and sat up a little straighter. “How do you know the way so well?”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t live that far from here. C’mon, don’t give me that look, I’m really not stalking you, I promise,” Mads laughed and Martin smiled tiredly. </p><p>“This is my stop,” he said, “drop me off?”</p><p>Mads pulled over and Martin climbed out of the car, then turned around and leaned back inside. “Thanks for the ride. You know, you’re not as bad as I thought, I guess.”</p><p>Mads smiled a wide, open smile and Martin pointed a thumb behind himself. “I should probably get inside,” he said but made no move to turn around yet. “Oh,” he said and started to pull off the jacket but Mads stopped him. “Keep it on. I don’t want you to freeze.”</p><p>Martin smiled and waved, then shut the car door. He walked up to the front door and turned around just in time to see Mads start the car and drive off.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, he stood in front of the mirror in his room, Mads’ jacket pulled over his t-shirt. It was way too large, but Martin liked the look of the red and white fabric with the rest of his outfit. He turned around and looked over his shoulder to see the back of the jacket where “04 - BROCK-PEDERSEN” was spelled out in bold, red letters. A light blush started to spread on his cheeks, and he buried his face in his hands and laughed.</p><p> </p><p>On Monday, Martin wore the jacket over his own hoodie. He could feel the eyes of the other students burn on his back and heard the whispers follow him around the school all day. No one talked to him directly, but he knew how gossip spread in a high school like a wildfire in a dry forest. Martin wanted to put Mads’ loyalty to the test. After all, he had been the one that insisted on Martin to wear his jacket before the weekend. </p><p>Martin shoved the books from his history class into his locker and flinched when somebody loudly exclaimed “What the hell?” right next to his ear. He turned to find Rasmus Winther mere inches from his face. Marcin Jankowski cheerily waves at Martin over his shoulder. “Did you steal his jacket out of spite now?” Rasmus asked. That shook Martin out of his surprised state and startled a laugh out of him. “No. It’s kind of a long story, wanna get some food?”</p><p>When he had first come to the states, Martin had been a lot closer with Rasmus as he was one of the few new exchange students. There had been no fighting when they drifted apart and they were still on friendly terms. Ramus’ new group of friends also held a part in that, of course. All five of them weren’t exactly popular for their looks but everyone had at least one memorable experience with the chaotic class clowns. Martin liked them enough to hang out with them once in a while and they always had a place at their table for him.</p><p>“And then he just gave you that jacket?” Marcin asked incredulously after Martin had finished his story. “No,” Martin said, “he insisted I should keep it on. I’m gonna give it back to him though.” Marcin nodded and grinned. “You’ve got the attention of the whole school for sure.”</p><p>Something in Martin’s stomach shifted uneasily. He didn’t mind the attention, even if it was negative. But he hadn’t thought through what it would mean for Mads when the gay kid showed up all cozied up in his jacket. Marcin and Rasmus had already started their own conversation about some show again when they stepped through the doors of the cafeteria. Immediately, Martin was hit with the loud voices and the smell of junk food from the kitchen. He let his eyes roam for a second and luckily spotted the table where all the football players sat quickly. “I’ll be with you in a sec,” he told Rasmus who gave him a knowing smile and a thumbs up to which Martin responded in turn with an exaggerated eye roll.</p><p>He made his way through to the table in the centre of the room and came to a stop when Mads’ eyes landed on him and his whole face morphed into a sunny smile. Martin quickly pulled off the jacket and held it out to Mads without any words. Mads smile faltered and he slightly pouted as he said, “But it looked so good on you!” Martin had to concentrate all his willpower to keep the blush on his cheeks from spreading - he’s not sure whether he succeeded.</p><p>“Hey fags,” somebody shouted, and the room fell quiet, “be disgusting somewhere else, I wanna eat in peace!” The uneasy feeling in Martin’s stomach dropped and threatened to pull him down to the floor with it. He grimaced and choked out a “sorry” and nodded to his still outstretched arm. Mads, who looked completely stunned, took the jacket and Martin gave him another short grimace before turning around and making his way to the other side of the cafeteria where Rasmus waved him over. “You okay, dude?” Luka asked and pulled aside another chair. Martin heavily dropped in it. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said and tried to spy through the heads of the other students on the table he just walked away from. “I just miscalculated how quickly you can get attached to cute guys.”</p><p> </p><p>When Martin stepped outside the school building after his last class, he heard his name shouted in a familiar voice. Zdravets was walking up to him at a fast pace, a serious look on his face. “Is everything okay?” Martin asked and his friend took a moment to catch his breath and then said: “No, haven’t you heard? Some dickheads sprayed some shit on Brock-Pedersen’s locker and broke it open. He had a picture of you in there.” Martin stopped breathing for a long second before he could choke out a “what?”. Zdravets just shook his head.</p><p>“I don’t know, man. I gotta run. Stay safe, okay? Don’t let him follow you home or whatever.” With that Zdravets is on his way. Martin shouldered a bag a little more violent than usual and started to jog over to the football field. He let his mind run wild and go over all the possibilities of what happened. But there weren’t many realistic options. Shit. Mads Brock-Pedersen did most likely stalk him and probably wanted to see him dead in a ditch now. And Martin fell for it. The most popular jock on the football team had a picture of the gay kid in his locker which was a death threat in itself. The gay kid should try to switch schools. The natural progressions of high school.</p><p> </p><p>During rehearsal, he could feel the girls’ eyes on him and their shushed voices when he turned his back on them. Kathy and two of her friends openly gawked at him for a few minutes and whispered agitatedly into each other's ears. He just spared a tired roll of his eyes for them when he caught their eyes on him yet again. Martin knew he was unconcentrated and the coach took a few sharp jabs at him, but his words never really stung. Martin knew he was good when he could clear his mind and that’s what counted in the end.</p><p>After rehearsal was over he quickly pulled on his jacket and made his way off the field and onto the street. The air was a little chilly, but he decided he could walk home without freezing today. Martin had been walking for not much longer than five minutes when a car drove past him, slowed and stopped a few metres down the road. Martin recognized the car and the license plate almost immediately. This time Mads would most likely not offer him a ride home, he figured.</p><p>Martin sped up his steps and silently prayed that Mads would just let it go. When he walked up next to the car, he noticed that the window was already rolled down and Mads leaned over and onto the passenger seat. “Martin!” he called.</p><p>Martin cursed his traitorous mind as he immediately whipped around to look at Mads face. He had the same ‘kicked puppy’-look on this face again and it took Martin a full second to push the weird feeling threatening to bubble up his chest down and to start walking again. He heard the low hum of the car motor picking up again and then saw the car pull up next to him from the corner of his eye. “Please,” Mads called out again, “can we talk?”</p><p>Martin cursed under his breath and decided to take his chances and keep walking. Finally, the sound of the car grew quieter and it disappeared from Martin’s field of view. For a relieved second, he thought Mads had given up and turned around but his shoulders tensed up when he heard a car door open and close. Heavy steps came up behind him and he squared his jaw, getting ready to shout for help in the quiet neighbourhood he was walking in.</p><p>“I just wanna talk,” Mads repeated, much closer now and Martin whipped around to see the other also stop in his tracks. He looked like he wanted to sink into the concrete below him. “Okay?”</p><p>Martin crossed his arms tightly over his chest and gave the quarterback a once over. He was still in the clothes he wore on the field with his jacket on top. That damned jacket. “Go on then,” he quietly said.</p><p>Mads seemed to deflate even further at his words. “I’m sorry,” he started. “It wasn't supposed to mean anything, at first.” Martin wanted to laugh, he wanted to tell him off and yell at his face that stalking somebody to commit a hate-crime was so far from ‘not-meaning-anything’, but he kept quiet and cautiously watched Mads face. “I didn’t think that they would smear slurs on my locker and break it open because you had my jacket for a day.” Mads took a moment to sigh. “It was just a stupid crush and I should’ve let it go.”</p><p>Martin’s breath hitched in his throat and let his arms drop to his sides uselessly. Everything stopped. Except that it didn’t, there was still the rustling of the wind in the treetops and the faint chatter from a garden nearby and Mads, who still rambled on. “I knew you didn’t like me back but I was a creep about it and tried so hard to talk to you. I thought I could maybe change your mind about me. But all I’ve done is put us both in bad spots and probably you hate me but I still like you <em>so much</em>!”</p><p>One of Martin’s arms came up again so he could cover his mouth in surprise as a silent “oh” escaped him. That’s what stopped the words coming from Mads mouth at last. He looked at Martin in confusion.</p><p>“You like me?” Martin asked in wonder. His mind hasn’t quite caught up with the situation and he tried his best not to start giggling hysterically when Mads nodded fiercely. “Oh,” Martin repeated, “I misinterpreted everything a little then.” Mads still looks confused, but now the tiniest bit of hope had settled into his features. “You did change my mind. You’re really not as bad as I thought.”</p><p>Mads whole face shifted into something between confusion and relief, then it morphed into a brilliant smile. He had his eyes glued onto Martin’s face as he threw a thumb over his shoulder and gestured to his car which was parked in the middle of the road. “Can I maybe drive you home then?”</p><p>Martin also allowed himself to smile and the last bit of fight disappeared from his body. “I think you can, yes.” </p><p> </p><p>In the end, Mads didn't take him home at all. Instead, he drove onto the road and in the direction of Martin's home, who suddenly surprised himself by saying: "Take a left here." Mads looked at him, similarly surprised, but followed the order without any questions. "So," Martin started, "do you wanna play football forever?" He stopped himself with a laugh. "It's boring smalltalk, but I don't know a thing about you. Like, what's your favourite colour, when is your birthday, what's your favourite Friends character?"</p><p>Mads waited until Martin stopped talking and after a pause, he answered: "I don't want to play football forever, but everyone wants me to get a scholarship. I'm not sure what I want to be instead, though. My favourite colour is red, uh, my birthday is on August 12 and my favourite is Rachel." Martin looked at him, and he could feel his face turn soft and his gaze warm. "Do you want to be an athlete or something like that? Or cheer in college?" Mads asked.</p><p>"Maybe, yes. It's just very unstable, one injury and I would be completely lost." Mads nodded, his eyes on the road. "You're really good. I always admire what you guys can do, but you are special. You always catch my eyes when I'm on the field." Martin could feel something warm curl up around his chest, making it feel tight and he silently smiled into his lap. Mads leaned forward and pushed a button on the radio. Music filled the car and Mads softly bobbed his head and hummed along. "Is that Danish?"</p><p>Mads grinned and nodded. "I always listen to Danish pop, it makes me feel less homesick. We don't speak a lot of Danish at home anymore and there aren't many students from Denmark at school." Martin felt the corners of his mouth pull up. "Rasmus and the other Martin are from Denmark. But I've never seen you guys talk," Martin said.</p><p>"Oh," Mads grin fell slightly, "we talk from time to time, but their group is way too cool." Martin looked at him, dumbfounded. "You, Mads Brock-Pedersen, star quarterback of our high school, doesn't feel cool enough to join a group?" he asked. Mads grimaced a little. "They don't care about looks and popularity and that's the two points I can really brag with, you know?"</p><p>Martin shook his head, still feeling bewildered. "Now you're just lying. You can come with me when I sit with them. If you want to, of course!" he quickly added. Mads eyes flickered off the road and onto Martin's face and his smile returned. "That would be really nice."</p><p>At the next intersection, Mads slowed the car and turned around to Martin, looking at him in question. "Go right," Martin ordered after a thought and once more, Mads complied instantly. It gave Martin a strange feeling of satisfaction. For a few minutes, they drove without talking, the music coming from the radio was the only noise that filled the inside of the car.  “So, your family also moved here?”, Mads asked.</p><p>“Oh, yes, my mom had a job opportunity, and my sister was in her last year before gymnasium, anyway,” Martin answered. “I know it sounds weird sometimes, but I love my family. The three of us are really close and I wouldn’t know what to do without them.”</p><p>“It’s not weird,” Mads said. “I think it’s very sweet. A left here?”</p><p>Martin nodded; they had been driving smaller circles around his block for a few minutes. “Yes, you can drop me off if you want to.” Mads took a left and then navigated in front of Martin’s driveway a few minutes later. Martin turned his whole body around to look at Mads whose eyes nervously flickered over his face. “Do you have a pen?”</p><p>“A pen?” Mads asked and rummaged through his pockets. A few seconds later he triumphantly held up a ballpoint pen and passed it over. Martin took his wrist in his hand and turned his arm over. He quickly wrote the number of their land line in black ink and on a second thought, he added a small heart. Mads looked at him in awe and Martin could feel the blood rush into his cheeks. He got out of the car, a little lightheaded and waved at Mads in a weird sense of deja vu. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Martin asked and Mads nodded and grinned and Martin couldn’t stop himself from smiling all the way up to his room either.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Martin, a guy on the phone is asking for you</em>!” Martin’s sister shouted in Swedish from somewhere downstairs. Martin had flopped down on his bed to get ahead on some schoolwork. Saturdays at their house were always slow days, filled with baking and homework. He got up and stepped out of his open door into the hallway, then quickly made his way downstairs where Emma held out the phone to him. Martin held it to his ear, confused about who would ask for him on Saturday morning. “Yes?”</p><p>“Hi!” A familiar voice flooded through the speaker. “It’s Mads, do you wanna go out today?”” Martin could feel himself blushing and his lips drew up into an unguarded grin. His sister suspiciously watched his expression. “Yeah, sure.” He tried to sound as unaffected as possible. He was sure it wasn’t working.</p><p>“I’ll come and pick you up at three?” Mads asked and Martin quickly confirmed it to him. Right after he hung up Emma was in his face, buzzing with excitement. “<em>Who was that</em>?” Martin just pushed her off and stuck out his tongue at her before climbing the stairs back to his room. Normally, he didn’t struggle much picking his outfits but he decided that it could evolve into a larger task today.</p><p>At exactly 30 seconds before three, Martin came flying down the stairs to grab one of his mother’s cookies right from the baking tray, hug her and call over his shoulder: “<em>I’ll be back later, love you</em>!” before stepping out the front door. And sure enough, on the street in front of their house, Mads' car was parked neatly with two wheels on the sidewalk. Martin tried not to look overly eager as he came down the driveway to open the car door and flop himself into the seat, looking at Mads expectantly. “Where are we going?”</p><p>“‘Hi, Mads’,” the other said in a mocking voice as he started the car and pulled it onto the road again. “‘how was your day, Mads? So nice of you to come and pick me up, Mads!’” Martin punched his shoulder. “Yes, all of that. But where are we going?” Mads grinned conspiratorially. Martin turned on the radio and switched between the channels until a song he knew came up. Mads softly hummed along with the melody and Martin peeked outside on the road to guess where they were going. He had a few ideas, but they were quickly out of question when Mads took another turn. But suddenly, realization washed over Martin and, as nonchalant as possible, he said: “Oh, we’re going to the arcade.”  Mads spluttered and looked at him in surprise. “It was supposed to be a surprise!” he complained, puffing up his cheeks and turning a little red. Martin laughs.</p><p>“Do you even want to go?” Mads asked. Martin looked at him and then, mockingly upset, he said: “No, the arcade, the most horrendous place for me, a teenage boy to go!” Mads smiled and drove.</p><p>“I haven’t been here in so long,” Martin said as he got out of the car. Mads locked the car doors and slid the keys into his back pocket. No, Martin wasn’t thinking about his ass, thank you very much. They went in and Martin was overwhelmed for a second by the music, the noise of kids running around and the brightly flashing lights. The arcade was big, for their town’s standards, and last time Martin went, they had all the famous games. Which, in his opinion, were of course the best. Mads bought a handful of tickets while Martin went up on his toes and tried to spy down the aisles for games he wanted to play. After he handed the cashier the money, Mads looked at him expectantly. Martin perked up when an idea came to his head. “Last time I was here, they had Space Invaders and I’m ready to crush you!”</p><p>They did, in fact, not have Space Invaders anymore. But a row of other shoot em’ ups was lined up against one of the walls and Martin slid a ticket into the next best mashine. They went through shooting up aliens and spaceships four times, before they declared their small war over. They ended on a tie but Martin knew he would’ve won the next round. </p><p>Mads went up to the claw machines next with a determinant look on his face. “Aren’t these things all rigged?” Martin asked, trailing behind him. Mads stern expression broke and he smiled his brilliant, wide smile. “Not if you figure them out,” he said and stepped up to the first one with sea animal themed toys inside. He slid in a ticket and started controlling the arm. The claw grabbed a plushie and Mads steered it to the drop-out box confidently. Shortly before he reached it, it dropped. Martin snorted. “Nice,” he said dryly, but Mads just shushed him. “Just watch.”</p><p>The slid in another ticket and repeated his first try, slowly inching the toy closer to success. Another ticket, and the plushie dropped into the box, falling through so Mads could grab it and hold it up, triumphantly. Martin couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “Okay, I’m impressed.” Mads laughed, still holding the toy out. Martin eyed it. It was a cute turtle, covered in soft, blue fabric and completed with big, dark glass eyes. “C’mon, take it;” Mads said and at Martin’s surprised face, he added, “I got it for you.” Martin’s cheeks were burning, but he accepted the small plushie with a smile. It felt warm and soft in his hands.</p><p>The arcade had a small concessions stand, filled to the brink with popcorn, soft drinks and pastel coloured cotton candy. When Mads asked Martin if he wanted anything, he answered, “Aren’t we supposed to eat healthy, you know, like athletes?”</p><p>Mads went puppy eyed and Martin’s heart all but melted. “But Martin, <em>Slurpees</em>,” Mads said, as if it was any explanation. “I guess I could go for Slurpees,” Martin gave back and Mads pumped his fist into the air with a loud “yes!” that startled a girl who was walking past them. Mads quickly dragged Martin over to the concussion stand, making easy conversation. Mads just <em>talked</em>. He wasn’t overthinking, and he wasn’t judging Martin for the answers he gave. Martin felt dizzy with all the attention on him.</p><p>Mads bought them both large slurpees and insisted to pay again. Grumbling quietly, Martin took the offered beverage and took a small sip. The sugar on his tongue was intoxicating and he took large gulps out of the straw as they stepped back to the arcade machines. In the corner of his eye, Martin spotted something and felt excitement fill up his chest. He could feel a large grin stretch across his lips as he gestured over to the other side of the hall. Mads followed his arm with his eyes and started grinning as well. The Street Fighter 2 arcade came into better view when they stepped over, giggling like children. “We gotta,” Martin said and Mads nodded fiercely, the competitiveness already lighting up his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>On the way back home, conversation came to Martin easier. He felt comfortable in the warm seat. There was soft static coming from the radio and Mads narrated some story from school. His voice was nice, Martin noticed, and his accent was cute. Martin looked at him, the sugar high he had been on during the last hour slowly fading out of his system and his eyelids becoming heavy. His face was perfect too, of course it was. And he probably had the body of a greek god, under that nice sweater. Martin giggled elatedly at that thought and Mads looked at him in confusion. “You okay?”</p><p>Martin nodded, still laughing awkwardly. “I decided. You’re not bad. You’re pretty good actually.” That didn’t even tell half of the story. Martin liked him a lot, he was definitely falling for the other. Oh well. </p><p>Mads seemed to get the message anyway. “You’re pretty good, too,” he said and turned his eyes back onto the road with a smile. Too soon, they drove into the familiar neighbourhood and up to Martin’s house. Mads stopped the car and pinned Martin with a look that made him feel way too hot under his collar. “So,” he said. “So,” echoed Martin. He considered his options, but his mind betrayed him when his mouth asked, “Walk me up?” without his permission. Mads smiled and got out. Martin took a deep, steadying breath before he stepped out as well. He got this.</p><p>They walked up to the front door in silence and came to a stop on the doorstep. “This is horribly cliché, but I had a really good time tonight,” Mads told him, quietly. His eyes flickered down nervously. To his lips, Martin’s mind helpfully supplied. They stood close to each other, on Martin’s doorstep, after a great date. But neither of them were moving. Mads wouldn’t kiss him, Martin realized. Because he was a perfect gentleman, and infuriatingly nice. Martin leaned in to kiss him. </p><p>Martin had to roll up to the tips of his toes and hold onto Mads’ neck to reach his lips properly. He pressed his lips onto Mads softly and pulled him closer with the hands on his neck and jaw. Mads’ hands had shot up when Martin kissed him, but they couldn’t settle. Martin pulled back with a smile on his lips, but kept his hands on Mads’ neck, who looked positively starstruck. The surprise showed on his face, but he was smiling stupidly. Martin was so incredibly attracted to him. Martin let his hands drop and Mads stepped back. </p><p>“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, and Martin nodded, making his face light up even further. “Okay.” Mads stumbled back to his car, nearly running straight into the mailbox. Martin lowered his burning face into his hands before turning around and unlocking the door.</p><p> </p><p>The nervous energy radiated off of Mads as he walked up to Martin’s front door for the second time in only a few days. He was dressed in a soft looking sweater and nice pants and Martin had not been able to stop himself from laughing when he had seen Mads that day. </p><p>“It’s just my family,” Martin said, taking his hand and squeezing it. Mads had overcome his awkward fumbling touches rather quickly and Martin responded with his own small affections. The taller boy looked distraught, nervously fumbling with his jeans pockets. Martin liked this version of Mads better than the star quarterback-best looking student-super popular version he had seen before. Mads was just so genuine like this. Martin let go of his hand and unlocked the door. Mads was on his heels when he stepped in, looking around curiously.</p><p>Mads looked weirdly out of place in their small home, like he could hurt his head on the ceiling if it were a little lower. Martin’s mom had been overjoyed when he told her about his new relationship and insisted to invite Mads over for dinner as soon as possible. Martin thought it was sweet, but when he had mentioned it to Mads, all the colour had drained out of his face and he had nervously asked questions about Martin’s family for the entire week. Martin thought it was sweet, but unnecessary. Mads still looked positively anxious about meeting Martin’s mom and sister, so Martin shrugged off his shoes and grabbed his hand once more to drag him into the kitchen. Emma was sitting at their small dinner table, doing homework from the looks of it. Their mom was stirring pasta in a large bowl but immediately turned her head when they stepped in, looking delighted. </p><p>“You have to be Mads!” she said. “Martin talked so much about you. He said you’re one of the players he’s cheering for?” She chattered on and Mads held onto Martin’s hand for dear life. He still looked unsettled. His focus was on Martin’s mom, so he completely missed how Emma’s jaw had dropped to the floor the second he had walked in. Martin knew Emma knew who Mads was, but he predicted her reaction to be something like this. It filled him with a very great sense of satisfaction. Her eyes caught his and he winked. That seemed to sober her up from the initial shock and she stuck out her tongue at Martin before waving and calling “Hi, I’m Emma!”. Mads waved back, a little cautiously, but a small smile had made its home on his face and his shoulders were a little more relaxed now. “Dinner is ready in 20,” Martin’s mom said and that was all Martin needed to pull Mads up the stairs to his room. </p><p>Mads stepped in and looked around curiously again. His eyes stuck to the posters on the wall and the few photos Martin had put up. “Your place is really nice,” he said, and Martin shrugged. “It’s okay.”</p><p>“I like it,” Mads continued, “it’s very home-y.” Martin shook his head about him and pulled him onto his bed to kiss him.</p><p> </p><p>When they emerged downstairs, the table was set and it smelled heavenly. Martin knew his mom loved to cook for guests and she was glad to meet Mads. Officially. As Martin’s boyfriend. That was still a weird feeling to Martin, especially because they tried to keep it on the low end at school. As accepting as a lot of people were today, their school would most likely not approve of a very open gay relationship and Martin didn’t want to get Mads in any sort of trouble. They had their small moments, during lunch time in the hallways, after rehearsal eating dinner or small dates fit in between their schedule.</p><p>Martin’s mom was asking about Mads football training at first, and Mad dutifully explained his position and his scholarship opportunities. Emma still looked starstruck and Martin teased her with silent but meaningful looks. Mads asked about the food and Sweden and for a few minutes Martin could just lean back into the domestic feelings that caught him like fluffy pillows. When he emerged again, the topic had steered away from the Scandinavian countryside over to Mads family and Martin cut in without a second thought. “They made you sign up for English AP this year, right? With that one teacher, what was her name?” And Mads looked relieved and gratefully knocked his knees against Martin’s as he started to talk about his classes instead. Mads didn’t like to talk about his parents that much, Martin had realized and so he didn’t ask. Mads silently thanked him for it, or so he thought.</p><p>Dinner couldn’t have gone better, Martin decided by the end of the evening, when he walked Mads to the door and the taller boy kissed his forehead and hugged him goodbye, jogging back to his car. <em>If he loves you, he will turn around and look at you</em>, Martin’s head quoted in the exact moment Mads turned his head to smile at him. Martin told his fast-beating heart to shut up.</p><p> </p><p>Friday nights were a nice time to rehearse. Firstly, the air was usually chilly but not too cold, just perfect to train outside on the field. Secondly, Martin had no curfew so he could stay for as long as he wanted, use the showers or train the routines on his own once more. And lastly, the football team was always training at the same time. Thirsting after Mads when he spotted him on the field became a favourite pastime for Martin. Tonight, Mads wanted to take him on a date after the rehearsal and Martin had felt like he was walking on air for the entire day. The nights they could plan something together were becoming less and less with the amount of games they had to play for the league, so it was nice to have some free time just for the two of them.</p><p>Martin slipped into the empty changing room. The stench of sweat and deodorant was disgusting, but Martin didn’t mind anymore. Right as he wanted to undress, the door was thrown open and some of the football players came in and went straight to their bags to look for water and towels. Of course, they would take a break right as Martin wanted to put on a skin-tight cheerleader outfit. He thought he had read about a situation like that once, in a less than child friendly magazine. Oh well.</p><p>One of the last players to come in was Mads, he was chatting with another player Martin didn’t recognize. When Mads saw him, his face lit up like it always did and after a quick apology to the other guy he quickly came over to pull Martin into a kiss. Martin let himself be pulled in, but not without checking the other guys' reactions over Mads’ shoulder. They didn’t seem to care, so Martin let himself relax. When Mads released him, he exaggeratedly wrinkled his nose and said: “You stink.” Mads just laughed and boxed his shoulder without any heat behind it. Outside, the coach blew his whistle and Mads quickly let go of Martin and with a “See you later!” he ran outside. </p><p>Martin knew he was a good cheerleader, but it felt even better to get praised for it. He was always trying his best and it was nice when that’s rewarded. So, when he had to lift Kathy up for a more complicated routine and she muttered a “That’s pretty great. Just don’t drop me.” he felt elevated as if he were the one being thrown into the air.</p><p>They finished a little early, so Martin was already waiting in the parking lot, leaning onto Mads’ car. His boyfriend came out behind a building a few minutes after, laughing with his fellow players. They patted his back as a goodbye before he went over to Martin and pulled him into a quick kiss. </p><p>Martin walked around the car and settled into the passenger seat. He looked at Mads and grinned a little crookedly. “Sorry for showing up in your changing room today. I hope the guys are okay with that.” He was searching Mads’ face for some evidence that the football team said the kind of things Martin expected from them. To his surprise, Mads grin just widened.</p><p>“Oh no, it’s all good. My mates think it’s okay, they said they’d look out for you too.” </p><p>“Cute,” Martin added, calmer now, then poked Mads as he put a hand to his heart in pretend-jealousy.</p><p>Mads pulled out of the parking lot and drove an unfamiliar route, stopping the car at a dead end on the edge of the city. “Please don’t take me to the woods to murder me?” Martin tried and Mads just laughed. He pulled open one of the rear doors and pulled out a basket. “We’re just having a picnic,” he said. “If any murdering happens, it’s gonna happen afterwards.”</p><p>Martin followed him along a small trail and up a hill. There was still a hint of daylight, but looking up, Martin could already spot the first stars in the sky. Up on the hill, there were a few picnic benches and a bit of dried dirt, where Mads laid out a blanked. He started opening a few containers with food. Experimentally, Martin picked one up and sniffed it. “Did you cook that?” he asked, curiously.</p><p>Mads looked a little embarrassed. “No, I’m not great at cooking. I got it from a really good spot downtown. I only made some cookies.” Martin sat next to him onto the blanket and leaned his head against the taller one’s shoulder. “This is great,” he said. “Thank you.”</p><p>Mads just rested his head against Martin’s and said nothing. They ate and shared some stories from their training. The topic shifted to a show they both had watched, and Martin eventually laid his head into Mads lap, who started playing with his hair, a soft look on his face. The sun had fully set, and Martin could only make out Mads’ broad silhouette.</p><p>“When will I meet your parents?” Martin asked, and immediately cursed himself for it as he felt Mads body go stiff and his hands retrieve from his hair. “Martin…” he started.</p><p>“I just think,” Martin tried to explain, “you’ve already met my mom and I would like to know who they are. I understand you are not that close, but I don’t think that’s really fair.”</p><p>“Don’t,” is all Mads said, sharply. Martin got up and sat in front of him, Mads turned away. “You don’t have any idea.”</p><p>“Then talk to me!” Martin said, raising his voice. “I don’t understand why you are being so secretive!”</p><p>Silence. Then: “They don’t really approve of this,” Mads said, softly. He sounded tired. “Us, you. They love me, and they support me. But this is difficult for them. We had a big fight about it. Only because I have to listen to all that doesn’t mean you should too.”</p><p>Martin felt all the fight leave him immediately. “Shit, Mads, I didn’t mean to start a fight. Hey, look at me?” Mads turned around to him, Martin softly shifted forward and laid his hands onto Mads shoulders in a silent invitation. Mads pulls him forward and onto his lap and Martin buries his face into Mads’ hoodie. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Mads shook his head. “It’s okay, I should’ve told you.” </p><p>They stayed like that for a long time, Martin was not counting the seconds. He only let go when Mads pushed him away softly and said, “Let’s get back to the car.” They packed up and walked down the hill hand in hand. When they arrived, Martin joked weakly: “So, time for the murdering?” Mads dropped the basket he was carrying and moved up to Martin, crowding him against the car. “I have a better idea.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just remembered why I don’t like parties,” Martin said as they walked up the driveway to Marilyn’s house. Martin didn’t even know her, they had a calc class together last year, but he had never exchanged a word with her outside of that class. To be fair, he hadn’t been invited, Mads-and-whoever-he-wanted-to-bring had been, but of course Mads had wanted to bring along Martin. He should’ve said no but Mads could get almost everything from him with a small pout and his nice eyes. </p><p>Parties were stupid, Martin didn’t exactly enjoy drunk people or dancing, he much preferred a smaller group of people and a less stressful activity. But he had promised Mads he would go and so he had to at least try. His experiences with parties had ranged from okay to absolute disasters and he wanted to avoid the ladder as much as possible.</p><p>“Let’s go in first,” his boyfriend said, smiling, “and as soon as you say the word we’re out of here.” Martin took his hand, Mads squeezed it. He never seemed to mind showing his affection when they were out together, and Martin basked in the extra attention. The front door of the light blue suburban house was open and Mads walked in with the confidence of somebody who was always wanted everywhere. Martin trailed behind him, more cautiously. When they stepped into the spacious room, Mads was immediately greeted by some shouts and he waved and shouted something back over. For just a second, Martin thought Mads would just leave him there, in the middle of a party where he didn’t know anyone but then, Mads turned around and leaned forward to ask: “Do you want to get drunk or take it slow?”</p><p>“Drunk sounds fine,” Martin said, halfway convinced he could handle it, halfway to impress Mads, who looked pleased. </p><p>“Okay,” he said and took Martin’s hand to drag him with him to the other side of the room, “Let’s go!”</p><p>Martin was handed a fizzy drink by a girl named Leah that Mads had introduced him to. He had seen the bright-eyed, dark-skinned girl in the halls before and he vaguely remembered she was a member of the band that played during the football matches. Mads had grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Martin, who refused with a wrinkled nose. Mads dragged him around while he greeted the other guests, sharing funny anecdotes along the way. Martin knew he was more of a people-person but seeing it in action was…nice. Mads was clearly enjoying himself and Martin was happy to be dragged along for a while. When they circled back once again to the makeshift bar, and Mads grabbed his fourth beer, Martin mixed up another strong drink and told Mads to go on without him. Mads’ face immediately morphed into a kicked puppy-look but Martin set down his drink to pull him down for a quick, chaste kiss.</p><p>“I just need to sit down for a bit,” he said and picked up his glass. “Go dance or stuff.”</p><p>Mads gave him a questioning last look but when Martin laughed and shook his head at him, he stretched out his tongue at him and went over to a group of his teammates and some other students dancing. To his chagrin, he also spotted some of his own cheerleader mates, but it was obvious that they would be at a large party like this and Martin watched him for a second longer, taking a sip of his drink. The alcohol was buzzing through him and he felt a little light-headed in the heated-up room. A cool breeze was flowing in through the open door and caught around Martin’s ankles and so he stepped out the glass doors into the backyard. In the middle, there was a large pool and some of the guests were swimming and splashing each other despite the colder temperatures. A small group was playing truth or dare. <em>Nope, no interest in joining them.</em> A little further back, Martin spotted Leah and two other people he didn’t recognize. He walked over, and when Leah saw him, she immediately scooted over and patted the space next to her. He was introduced to the other two, Eefje was an exchange student a grade below him and he recognized Tisk from his science class.</p><p>“You are Mads’ boyfriend, aren’t you? I didn’t even know he was gay, because – you know – all the girls are swooning over him and shit,” Eefje said and Tisk rolled their eyes so far back into their skull that Martin was seriously impressed. After all, he could appreciate some good sass. Martin had been concerned about that, at some point. Mads was popular, he could have everyone and anyone, so why would he settle for Martin? But he didn’t worry anymore. <em>He chose you, after all.</em></p><p>“Ignore her,” they said. “I’m glad you found each other, despite the drama.” Martin grimaced as they gave him a sympathetic look. After that, the conversation drifted into nice, drunk nonsense. Leah pointed out some constellations she could spot despite the light pollution, Eefje added the astrology aspects and Tisk hummed along to the muffled music that reached them. Martin closed his eyes and sunk down into the cool grass. He was happy. For the first time in a long while, he felt content. He had a good home life, stable grades, was maybe not liked but respected as a cheerleader and he had an amazing boyfriend. His last year of high school was set out to be great. Of course, nothing good could last for too long.</p><p>When Martin sat up, the world was spinning around him, and he felt disoriented. <em>Time to go</em>, he decided and shakily got up to his feet. “I’m going to head out,” he says to the other three on the grass, his speech slightly slurred, and they bid their farewell. Still a bit unstable, he made his way back to the house where the party was still going at full force. The music was loud, but even louder were the voices of most of the guests who were chanting at something happening in the middle of their circle. Martin couldn’t spot Mads, but as he got a look inside the crowd, he found him, also cheering. The host, Marilyn, was chugging down a disproportionately large glass of beer, encouraged by her shouting peers. After she had emptied the cup, she slammed it down on the table beside her and stumbled. Martin shook his head and smiled, trying to make his way through to Mads but stopped in his tracks when Marilyn stumbled right into Mads arms, who caught her. She looked up through her lashes, smiled and kissed him on the mouth.</p><p>A second passed. Mads made no move to push her away. Suddenly, Martin felt weirdly sober, as if the large chunk of ice that had fallen into his stomach had absorbed the dizziness and replaced it by a numb feeling that was spreading through his chest. Somebody close to Martin whispered, “oh shit”, as he whirled around and made his way to the front door. All his mind was set on was to get out and away from what he had just seen. <em>Fuck</em>, he had been so stupid. He was out and on the sideway, walking away from the house when his tears finally spilled over. He angrily wiped at his cheeks with his jacket sleeve. Who was he kidding? He should have seen this coming from the start. Still, it came to him as a surprise. The ice block in his stomach had melted away and made room for hot and blinding anger that was bubbling up. Martin wasn’t even angry at Mads for kissing Marilyn. She was beautiful, rich and in his league. Which Martin was decidedly not. Mads was probably in her upstairs bedroom by now. And ouch, that was a thought that hurt. He should’ve never agreed to any dates. He shouldn’t have waited until he had fallen in lo- <em>no,</em> he reminded himself. <em>Stop those thoughts right there.</em></p><p>“Martin!” somebody called behind him. It was a female voice. The surprise from that was enough to make Martin stop and turn around. Surprise turned into disbelief when he saw Kathy run down the street towards him. She stopped a few feet away from him, only slightly out of breath, holding up her hands as if she were approaching a scared animal. “Are you okay?” Martin scoffed. “Okay, no shit, of course you’re not okay. You live kind of far off, right? We called you a taxi.”</p><p>“What are you doing?” Martin asked. “You hate me, remember?”</p><p>Kathy sighed and sunk down onto the sideway. She looked at him pointedly until he sat down, a little farther away from her. “We haven’t really been kind. I get that,” she starts. Martin scoffs again. “I deserve that, I guess. This isn’t friendship or anything. Just, a truce, okay?”</p><p>“A truce,” Martin repeated, unimpressed.</p><p>“This just sucks, you know? Boys suck.” Kathy said, and her eyes were sympathetic. Martin would’ve guessed she would burst into flames if she ever looked at him with anything else than aversion until now.</p><p>“’Boys suck’, I’ll drink to that,” he said, and she chuckled. “I thought tonight would go differently.”</p><p>“I didn’t think he would have it in him,” she agreed. “He seems like such a sweetheart.”</p><p>“Don’t,” Martin warned her, his voice taking a sharp edge.</p><p>She apologized, softer, “Force of habit.”</p><p>Kathy waited with him in silence on the sideway until a taxi pulled up on the empty street. He was glad about the company, even if he would never admit that to her, and even happier that they called him a taxi so he wouldn’t have to walk home. She hurriedly got up and waved the taxi over to him. Martin got up slower and fumbled for his wallet in his back pocket. When he pulled it out, Kathy hers already in hand and threw some notes into the car. “I’ve got it. See you on Monday, loser.”</p><p>Martin gave her the finger and got into the car. After telling the driver his address he rested his hot forehead against the cool window and didn’t allow himself to cry again.</p><p> </p><p>The following weeks were anything but easy for Martin. He and Mads had fallen into a sort of routine, a calm back and forth not unlike the tide. He was becoming poetic, how funny. The weekend of the party had felt like Martin’s world was ending. He had been sure that nothing could go back to the way it was. He spent some time crying, some time with his family and some time storing away things that reminded him of Mads. Now, a week later, Martin had to admit that the world kept turning. It didn’t matter to Martin’s grades if they were together. It didn’t matter to his training or his family. Okay, maybe it did matter a little to his family, who had been through their own little heartbreak when they heard Mads wouldn’t be returning. In the end, this wasn’t the end. Martin told himself that every time the sadness threatened to overwhelm him.</p><p>He had to tell himself that when he was cheering for the football team on the field. Martin was always watching Mads to some extent. He had not picked up a love or a huge understanding for football during their relationship, still he found himself more passionate about their team winning than before. Sometimes, he wished he could be happy about Mads getting hurt during a game. That he could watch the scene unfold and think <em>you get what you deserve</em>, but of course he never could. He couldn’t even hide his wince convincingly when Mads was thrown over and onto the ground again. The other girls on the squad had warmed up to him a little more though. He didn’t exactly understand why, but he wouldn’t question it if they decided that now was the time to be nice to Martin. He needed some niceness, once in a while. It made their training go smoother as ever and Martin could throw himself into his passion fully again.</p><p>He told himself that when he sat with Rasmus, Mihael and their friends during lunch and looked over to the tables where the football players were joking and slapping each other’s backs. Sometimes he would get a pitying look from one of his friends when he did it. He longed to walk over and ask Mads about their plans or his schedule or just to say high, and then accidentally stay around for most of lunch. Everything hurt even more when someone at his table lowered their voice and told him, “He’s looking at you again. Want me to do something about it?” Martin never looked up to meet Mads’ gaze. “Let him,” he said each and every time. But it hurt. It didn’t seem fair that Mads felt bad when he had been the once that <em>kissed another girl.</em></p><p>He told himself that when he accidentally did meet Mads eyes over his papers in English class and all the air in his lungs was gone at once. Mads had opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but luck was on Martin’s side as their teacher demanded their attention in the front. When Martin glanced at Mads from the corner of his eyes, he wasn’t looking at him anymore. That afternoon, Mads had called their landline. Martin only knew because Emma had picked up the phone and started to yell profanities into the receiver after a second. “You asshole, how dare you break his heart, you stupid-“, she had been railing and only stopped after Martin had wrestled the phone from her hands. “Don’t call me,” Martin had said. “Martin, please, let me explain,” Mads had immediately started but Martin interrupted him, “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t call.” Then he had hung up the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Martin felt stupid to be so affected by a breakup. Relationships made in high school weren’t meant to last. Rationally, he knew that. Rationally, he knew that he should try to get over Mads as quickly as possible. Their relationship had been short (intense), awkward (lovely) and it had been built on mistrust and uneasiness (Martin had fallen for Mads in a heartbeat). Mads probably wasn’t to beat up about this. Martin had not seen him and Marilyn together yet, but he knew how things came and went. Martin pushed his face further into the pillow, willing himself not to cry. When he looked up again, he was face to face with the turtle plushie Mads had won for him at the arcade which sat on top of his nightstand. Its small beady eyes looked like it was judging him. Martin felt a sob rise up in his throat and with a soft noise of anger, he knocked the turtle down to the floor. He curled away from it, towards the wall of the room and pulled the blanket over his face. (Later, he guiltily picked up the little plushie and pressed it to his chest with an overwhelming feeling of sadness in his chest. The fabric was still beautifully soft.)</p><p> </p><p>“Martin!” a familiar voice called out behind him right as he got off the school grounds on his way to the football field. They had game tonight, so Martin had to focus. Keep his thoughts away from Mads and do what he did best. Zdavrets jogged up and then easily fell in step with him. “How was the English exam for you?” Martin asked, lightly. Zdavrets laughed and shook his head, “Just a big mess. Hey, listen. Somebody apparently talked shit about you on Friday, some popular kid.”</p><p>“So, what’s new?” Martin asked. This was what he was used to, after all. Those kids didn’t like him, he didn’t like them. It piqued his interest anyway because usually, no one came running to tell him about it. “Well,” Zdavrets looked a bit uncomfortable, “Brock-Pederson punched him in the nose. Got a suspension from school for it.”</p><p>Martin’s stomach dropped, then immediately filled up to the brink with cold anger. “Son of a,” he hissed under his breath. “Is he allowed to play?” He asked, louder. “Yeah,” his friend answered. “They couldn’t afford to lose one of their star players mid-season. Hey, where are you going?” Martin shouldered his bag a little higher on his shoulder as he stalked over the neatly trimmed lawn, “Gonna give him a piece of my mind!” he called over his shoulder and didn’t stop to hear Zdavrets answer.</p><p>Martin was boiling with anger as he stepped around the bleachers, only to see the football team already jogging around the field. Against his best efforts, he spotted Mads almost immediately. The tall boy had a bruise on his chin and one of his hands was bandaged. It looked like it hurt. <em>Serves him right</em>, Martin thought grimly. He clenched his jaw and walked over to the changing room. There was no time to think of boys right now, he had a game to cheer for.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>R-E-D G-E-C-K-O-S; RED GECKOS GO, RED GECKOS GO</em>!“ the cheerleading squad chanted. They had made it through the thirst three quarters, and the match was starting to get close. Their team had scored quite well early on, but the opposing team had caught up and now they were head-to-head. Martin had seen the coach’s face and he knew that it wasn’t looking good for them. This game wasn’t essential for the state win, but nevertheless, Martin tried to cheer extra loud. He knew that only minutes had to be left before the final whistle but while he cheered to the crowd, he couldn’t watch the field. He couldn’t watch Mads. <em>Oh well.</em></p><p>In a fluid motion, he lifted Kathy so she could stand on his shoulders for one of their more complicated manoeuvres. He heard her high-pitched voice sound over the bleachers. Their relationship had taken a turn for the better after The Night. At least something good came out of it.</p><p>Martin tried to ban the thoughts from his head and concentrate on holding the pose and keeping the smile on his face. If nothing else, this was working out for him. </p><p>The high-pitched sound of the final whistle sounded over the field and their side of the bleachers broke into relieved cheers. The cheerleaders hugged each other in excitement and loud giggles but with one look to the team, Martin knew it wasn't a night for celebration. The coach looked stormy and the players looked at anything but him. Mads chose the exact moment Martin was looking at him to look up. Their eyes met for just the fraction of a second, but Mads face shifted, and he opened his mouth to say something, maybe even yell out to Martin but before he could follow through with any of these ideas, Martin turned away. The anger in him was rising again, and on his way to the changing rooms, Kathy brushed past him and gave him a look. He gave her a weak half-smile in return and started packing his bag in the changing room immediately. The repetitive movement of stuffing things in and closing the zippers helped to clear his mind a little. He slipped out before the football team even returned from the field.</p><p>With long steps he made his way to the parking lot, his eyes set on Mads’ Toyota a few rows over. The night was calm and warmer than usual, even in Martin’s light clothes. You could barely pick up the sound of chatter and laughs that bled over the bleachers and onto the grounds. Martin made it past the first two rows of cars and then walked straight up to Mads’ car, dropping the duffel bag off his shoulder and leaning against the cold passenger door. He tried to make sense of his thoughts, to decide what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t hold on to the words.</p><p>The first person to leave the schoolgrounds was Mads. At least Martin was somewhat lucky tonight and could avoid making a bigger scene. He just wanted to talk but catching Mads alone was always hard lately. His ex-boyfriend walked past the rows of cars just like Martin did a few minutes before him, his eyes set on the pathway below. When Mads was only a few metres from where Martin stood, Martin pushed himself off the side of the car and proclaimed, “So why the fuck would you punch somebody who badmouths me?”</p><p>Mads eyes shot up in surprise, wide and on the edge of panicked. “Martin-“ he choked out but Martin cut him off. “Why did you punch him?”</p><p>Mads looked him directly in the eyes, his shoulders dropping, and he shrugged while softly shaking his head no. “Because I won’t let anyone talk shit about you.”</p><p>“But why?” Martin pushed, starting to get irritated because Mads was just so unreadable. His face was closed off and sad, and Martin just couldn’t figure out what it meant. But he wanted to. Despite it all, he still wanted to know every aspect of the stupid guy.</p><p>Mads looked at him, new surprise showing on his face. “Because it’s the right thing to do,“- Martin scoffed – “and because I still have feelings for you.” Martin felt like somebody had punched him in the stomach. Hard. He felt like maybe he had to vomit. He knew that Mads had not let him go yet to some extent, but hearing it right from his mouth, soft and earnest and so unmistakably Mads, hurt him more than he thought it would.</p><p>“Well,” he said, trying his best to keep his expression neutral. “you shouldn’t have kissed somebody else then.”</p><p>Mads made a pained noise. “I didn’t!” he said and before Martin could interrupt him, he added, “She kissed me, and I was so surprised I didn’t push her off. I know what it looked like, but I didn’t kiss her back, I promise. I wanted to apologize right after I had recovered, but you were already gone.”</p><p>Martin opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. Mads had to be lying. This had to be an easy excuse he could use to protect his reputation. Except that he didn’t tell anyone else. And that he didn’t excuse himself right now. He just explained it, all with that stupid, heart-broken look on his face.</p><p>“Martin, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I understand if you can’t forgive me or that, but I want you to know how much this meant to me,” Mads softly declared, eyes dropping down.</p><p>Martin’s heart felt like it tried to escape his chest through his ribs. A low buzzing sound set in, cutting his hearing off. He wanted this, he realized then. He desperately wanted this. And so, he wouldn’t just let it go. That was simply not his thing. After this, how could he. If Mads was not lying, if the situation was just unfortunate, then he couldn’t let him go. Mads had laid himself bare before him and Martin didn’t want to stay angry anymore. It was draining, to split with somebody you loved. And if he could avoid it, if he could fix this-</p><p>“Oh, just shut up”, he said and closed the distance between them to throw his arms around his neck and push his face into the soft skin of Mads’ neck. He was warm and smelled like before. Like on reflex, Mads’ arms wrapped around him and settled on his hips. Martin could feel his fingers nervously flex against him. It was a familiar feeling, soft pressure with a promise of stability behind it. Martin didn’t have to cry because nothing was lost. “I’m sorry, too. About all of it. I should have listened,” Martin quietly admitted. Mads pressed a bit closer before pulling back. His eyes were looking for something in Martin’s face, and when he found it, he leaned down to kiss Martin. Martin’s eyes shuttered close as he let himself go in the feeling.</p><p> </p><p>Martin scribbled down the last to numbers of his equation and underlined it twice to mark the solution. With a heavy sigh, he closed his calculus book and rubbed at his tired eyes as he sat up. Studying was a pain – he let himself fall backwards, his head dropping off the side of the bed right were Mads sat with his own book propped up by his legs, who kissed his nose – but there were small favours to make it sweeter. Graduation was so close he could feel it on his tongue. He already started on his college essays, hoping for the very best. He was confident all would go well, especially with Mads on his side.</p><p>“So,” he said, still hanging down the side of his bed, “we’re going to prom together, right?”</p><p>Mads gasped and scrambled a bit away from the bed, looking scandalised. Martin sat up again, alarmed. “Did I say something wrong?”</p><p>“No,” Mads answered, looking the most uncomfortable Martin had ever seen him. “It’s dumb, but I had this huge thing planned to ask you out, I asked some of the girls from your squad if they would help to make it cheer related and I had the band kids in my pocket and-“</p><p>Before he could ramble more about his plan, Martin quickly cut in, “No, don’t tell me all about it, then it won’t be a surprise anymore!”</p><p>Mads looked at him, confused. “The surprise it ruined as it is.”</p><p>“Nonsense, I’m just more excited for what you have planned now. And hey,” Martin reached out with his right hand, wriggling his fingers until Mads took it. He squeezed it to reassure his boyfriend, “now you at least know I’ll say yes!”</p>
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